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You fade...
Like a bruise.

Like the ones your mouth left on my neck and shoulders with its lustful pressure.
Your teeth, which brought moments of bright pain/pleasure,
Are now bared in an artificial, animal smile.

Your lips, which parted to ******* skin like it was salvation,
Barely part now to speak to me.
You whispered my name like a prayer.
You screamed it like a curse.
You sighed it in contentment,
And now you won't even speak it in passing.

Your hands, which half-playfully pulled my hair...
Now won't pause to brush it from my face.

All these parts of you,
None more telling than your eyes.
Those new windows, which once let me pry...
Now have blinds drawn tight behind them,
Leaving only a pretty, shiny reflection-
A passing, glancing imitation-
Of the passion they once held
When they beheld
Me.

No color left to them but the muddy colors of
Boredom,
And possibly mistrust.

You fade...
Like a bruise.
Like the one you left on my mind with your brilliant conversation
And beautiful, rusty prose.
Like the many you left on my tongue...
Which now can speak nothing but trite and meaningless words,
Which now can barely remember the shapes
Of all the shimmering, liquid phrases it spoke to you
That seemed so important at the time.

You fade...
Like a bruise.
Once lover and friend,
Now barely one
And never the other again.
I walk the world with thoughts of you
In every place I go
Your voice is on the winter wind
Your footprints in the snow
And every tool I try to use to scrape you from my mind
Cuts your name onto my tongue
And beats me till I'm blind
I layed my head upon your knees and breathed the air you breathed
I cut myself when you were cut to know just how you bleed
Now as I walk this empty earth with nothing but a face
To breathe me and to bleed me
Until I leave this place
Through eyes of red and thoughts of green
there's always more that can be seen.
Within the word of poet thieves,
that break the windows,
steal the keys,
you
choose
to make your own decrees.
A man is more than just a man
and space is full of more than sand...
But who will lend a helping hand
when eyes are closed across this land..?

I think your job may be the chain
in which you build your own domain.
Your name is the loveliest word
I've ever said. In my life
I've never known someone like you.
Your aura is a quilt
that I could spend all day in
if you'd let me.
I think the chances of me meeting
another you are absurd
and I find the whole idea
to be terrifying.
I could make so much room
for you in my heart.
Here us and old one from years ago. It is flawed but enjoy.



A young lad abroad, was searching for truth
for what happens whenever we die.

A priest told him this, a monk told him that.
which one was fact and which one was lie?

The young lad was perplexed and filled up with grief.
He continued to search and to learn.

But the more that he read and the more he was told,
the more fear built up that he'd burn.

The young lad fell to his knees on the side of the road
and begged to be shown what was real.

"There are so many answers, and all of them different!
Oh, how am I supposed to feel?!"

Just then an old man, with a smile on his face,
asked him what caused so much grief.

The young lad said, through torrential tears,
"Without answers I'll never be strong."

"Does heaven exist? Will I go to hell?
Will all that I know simply end?

There are so many roads, which one should I take?
Do you know the answer, my friend?"

The old man sighed and said through a grin,
"There's a question more grand than the latter."

He grabbed the young lad, and looked deep in his eyes.
"The question is why does that matter?"
Our laws are complete and completely flawed for we will never understand.
Men and women are by-products of chaos and order.
Our understanding of the universe?
God exists in you and me.
God is made of light. .
We are light.
I am light.
Am
I?

)I(
A fire does not die. It simply transcends into another form.
We do not create.
We simply borrow.
We do not destroy.
We simply manipulate.
We build machines and set conveyor belts to make efficiency close to perfect.
Even if we reach it,
energy is wasted.
Thrown out.
Collected by nothing and turned into chaos.
Everything burns.
And we fall apart.
God is neither here nor there.
)II(
The world we see is order complete.
But of course this is a lie.
The atmosphere stays in place.
Contains our world.
Gives us air.
Life in an isolated system can't run at perfection.
But energy runs away like a thief in the night.
Entropy.
Entropy increases.
Chaos becomes more than order can control.
Thus is the way of the universe.
God is wasted energy.
)III(
We become nothing.
The sun will die and so will you.
Perhaps merely the idea of you will.
Perhaps you never existed at all.
When time stops and
time will
d e f i n i t e l y
stop,
only chaos will remain.
Frozen chaos in nothing at all.
Entropy does not decrease.
The clock ticks down as light wastes away.
Darkness fades away.
Chaos in nothing.
God exists in nothing and everything.

I
Am.
I am chaos.
We are burning.
God loves merely order.
All we love is made of chaos.
As light fades, probability of more increases
We understand more than nothing and all laws are conventions.
You and I are all the energy in the universe and in our progress we slowly fade away...
 Jan 2013 Jenna Gibson
Tom Orr
gun unslung
hanging by his side
swaying with his step

his step thorough
leaving sand behind
floating like particles of dust

dust now forgotten
as his step imprints
upon broken glass

glass shatters more
crumbling
like the cities of Israel
beneath the feet
of falsely declared gods

gods that now drive the mind
with intrepid pace
towards the unsuspecting

the unsuspecting victim
of such malice
that can only be embodied
by death

death
only defied by those
who can truly consider themselves
wholesome and true

and yet the truth struggles
to stop this relentless growth
of pride and self righteousness

and thus the marksman
raises the gun to his target

his breath steady
his heartbeat in his ears

a resonance that he despises
his imperfections are his enemy
And if not to be perfect then what else?

he pulls the trigger
I lit a match and watched it burn.
When the flame started to lose its strength and began to die,
I held another one up next to it.
The dying one sprang back to life and ignited them both.
Together they created a flame larger than one by itself ever could have mustered.
They stayed interwined until the flame died and their ashes flew off with the wind.
 Jan 2013 Jenna Gibson
Tom Orr
Glimmering lights from the powerful skyline,
reflected like jet flames in the River Thames.
Lights multiplied by the flash of a camera,
capturing beauty in it's searching lens.

I wasn't so sure of here before,
but now I know there will always be
a place in my heart for this great city.
A home, a hub for the bustling race.

Some say mind over matter,
I say heart over mind,
but my heart has learned to love
that which my mind has made a matter.
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